


Chronicles of the Ironbound Brotherhood: The Amethyst of Arthyria

by Legendarymasterwolf



Series: Chronicles of the Ironnbound Brotherhood [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 11:18:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendarymasterwolf/pseuds/Legendarymasterwolf
Summary: Kriv Delmirev doesn't know how he ended up with all these strange companions. A blue dragonborn rouge like himself, a human Lanthonian bard, a halfling barbarian, a dwarven sorcerer, a high elven blood hunter, and a tiefling ranger by all rights should never make great companions, especially when it comes to a group as damaged and strange as they are. However, he'll need them if he wants to survive this job.When a fabled item from the Royal Vault is stolen, the King of Arthyria hires the rouge to steal it back. To do so, Kriv takes several strangers into his group as he makes his way towards his destination, unaware of what the young rogue will find as he prepares for the theft of a lifetime.Unaware of the chest of maggots he will unearth...





	Chronicles of the Ironbound Brotherhood: The Amethyst of Arthyria

**Author's Note:**

> A fantasy story based off of my Dungeons and Dragons characters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three of the Brotherhood meet for the first time when one is waylaid and two others come to their assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent so much time writing this first chapter of what I intend to be my longest story.
> 
> And awaaaaaaaaaaaay we go!

The halfling made her way through the dark forest.

She didn't mind the dark. She was grateful there was at least a path, despite said path being a literal mudslide. She certainly didn't mind the rain. Saints knew she'd slept in worse, plus the trees helped shelter her from said rain.

What she did mind was the trees. As a soldier herself, a dark forest like this one would be prime for an ambush. Lucky for her, the nearest town, Greygar, was only a few miles away. If she could just make it there before this downpour got worse, then she could wait out the storm in the safety of the Unlucky Elf, the town's local watering hole.

Unfortunately, Fate decided otherwise.

As she neared the last stretch of road before Greygar, the woman heard voices. Not normal voices of those who made small talk, but angry, mocking voices accompanied by grunts of pain and the sounds of a struggle. It didn't take a wizard for the halfling to understand what was transpiring: someone was getting robbed by a group of bandits. She quickened her pace and skidded to a halt as she rounded the corner. Sure enough, straight ahead of her was a group of bandits, around five or so, beating what appeared to be a beggar, due to their tattered cloak, and giving the figure no time to react.

It was something that the halfling could not stand for. "Hands off 'em, you thieves!"

The bandits halted their assault and turned toward the creature who would dare disturb their work. A tall, muscular bandit who held what was presumably the beggar's possessions stepped forward and sneered. "You feel so strongly about him, sweetheart", he said gruffly, "why don't you try and take him then?"

Surprisingly, the halfling grinned and threw open her cloak, almost as if she was accepting their challenge. It was then that the bandit leader noticed what they had under the cloak: an old military uniform with the insignia of the Leopold Army sewn into the left breast and the orange markings of a corporal on the shoulder pads. What was even more terrifying, however, was the weapon the halfling corporal pulled out a moment later. It was a greatsword, two or three times her own size. She pulled it out from the sheath on her back with ease, letting the mammoth blade rest on her shoulder as she flashed that wicked grin at the bandits.

The reaction was almost immediate. The leader began hyperventilating. "Don't just stand there, you bastards, cut her down!"

The other four bandits charged forward, brandishing various weapons. It was a shame they weren't in a straight line. Then again, she didn't wish for this to be too easy now.

The barbarian began with a diagonal strike to the bandit on the far left. His left shoulder and torso split as the man went down in a fountain of crimson. She then pulled her blade straight out of the fresh corpse and blocked the two swords that would have disarmed her had she not done so, following it up with a kick to the one on her left and a parry to her right. The halfling took advantage of the moment to stab the bandit on her left through the neck, ripping out his throat as she led into a strike to the other bandit's waist.

As that bandit was relieved of his torso, the final man, desperate to avenge his comrades, put all his strength behind a vertical strike down on the barbarian's head, which she blocked with ease. For a moment, the bandit believed he had the upper hand. He realized later, as the lass forced his sword down and ran her own through his chest, that she had been toying with him all along, if her smile had been any indication.

Satisfied with the outcome, the warrior wiped the blood from her blade and brandished it in the leader's direction. "Let him go and I won't cut you down like your brothers."

Now it was the leader's turn to smile. He whistled into the trees. "Why don't we correct her, boys?"

Not a minute later, a dozen or so arrows came in her direction, hitting the ground around her feet. The halfling took a glace at the treeline, and it all became clear: the ambush itself had been an ambush. She noted the several bowmen who had failed to properly cover themselves in the trees; to any untrained eye, they would have been undetectable, though to her soldier's eye, they would have been outed instantly had she not been distracted by their comrades on the road. Based on her observation, it seemed the beggar had been ambushed earlier by that group, who had set up the party of around twenty to ambush anyone who tried to help and she was just the next in a long line of victims.

She smirked. Like Hell. She raised her blade. "You want to correct me, come and try," the barbarian snarled, "but you'll need at least thirty more men if you want to come out alive."

The bandits appeared to hesitate, indeed, her words had made some of them think, but they did not falter. She frowned. They appeared to be normal bandits, but they did not fight like them. If anything, they seemed to fight well, too well for a bunch of half-drunk sellswords who robbed whatever unwilling target crossed their path. Whatever it was, she would try to discover it by scaring it out of the leader or searching the bodies, whichever came first.

The leader raised his hand, and a group of six men exited the trees, armed with either spears, long-swords, or bows. "Alright then. Go carefully, boys. Just keep a level head and-"

It was at that moment that a lightning bolt came from the darkness of the trees and struck two of the spearmen down. The sudden occurrence made the remaining men jump back in fright.

Surprised, the warrior turned to where the bolt had come from, her eyes widening when she saw the shadow emerging from the trees.

What all present had once thought was a shadow grew into a hooded figure. They were clearly not human, judging by their feet, which had three digits, were much larger than a human's, and were covered in what appeared to be navy blue scales. They wore a dark brown hooded cloak that lay over a set of leather armor that ended at the knees and shoulders. Their hands, which were covered in a pair of black finger-less gloves attached to leather bracers with a silver lining, each held a separate item: the right held a curved dagger with a standard horizontal hand-guard on the hilt and the left dragged what appeared to be a severely wounded bandit.

Then, without hesitation or warning, the creature wordlessly drew the dagger to the bandit's throat, and slit it.

It was then that said creature lifted its head to reveal what it was. If it was any indication to her, the halfling would have guessed he was a dragonborn, a species of humanoids whose ancestors had made deals with the dragoons long ago, cursing their descendants to take on the appearance of them including the talons, claws, jaw, teeth, as well as the eyes of one. His eyes were an alluring shade of grey and his blue scales seemed to indicate that he was a blue dragonborn, one of the kinds that could breathe lightning.

The dragonborn growled and began slowly walking towards the remaining five bandits. The barbarian realized why: all the other bandits in the trees were now dead, their throats slit, possibly done while she had been threatening the leader. Another thought struck her: how many dragonborn were there that specialized as rogues? It wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't common either. The only blue dragonborn rouge that she knew of with this level of skill would be...

She was shaken from her thoughts by a war cry. Three of the bandits, not content with letting their comrades die in vain, charged the rogue, weapons raised. The rogue continued to walk forward, but he did sheathe his dagger and draw two new weapons: a rapier with a uniquely designed handle in his right hand and a short-sword in his left. One bandit, who carried a spear, charged forward and tried to spear him, but the rouge, without batting an eye, sidestepped the brash fool and impaled him through the chest with his rapier. The bandit coughed up blood as the dragonborn pulled the weapon from his chest and blocked the longsword from another bandit as his compatriot fell to the ground. They dueled for a moment, each nearly gaining the upper hand until the rogue sensed an opening and sliced off the man's weapon hand with his shortsword. A moment later, the man was relieved of his screaming head as well.

As the second bandit crumpled like his friend, an arrow hit the dragonborn in the shoulder, and promptly bounced off. He turned towards the shocked third bandit that had fired said arrow, gave him a look as if to say, "really?", and then pawed another dagger from his belt, hurling it at the unlucky fool. Said fool's last thought as the dagger penetrated his skull must have been to curse himself for forgetting that dragonborn had naturally thick skin that acted as a second armor for the species.

The fourth bandit stepped forward and drew his bow, but never got the chance to fire it, as it was that moment that the halfling chose to get behind the man and cleave him in two. As the two halves fell away, the dragonborn, impressed with his new ally's initiative, gave a nod of approval before turning to the leader, who was cowering in fear as the rogue approached.

"Run", the dragonborn growled as he retrieved his dagger, "run back to your boys and tell them what happened here. I'll be paying you a visit soon."

The leader did not need a second warning. He scrambled to his feet and bolted in the opposite direction, desperate to put distance between the two killers and himself.

The rogue sighed and sheathed the dagger when he was out of sight. "And here I thought I'd be able to get to Greygar before it started raining, but no, instead I have to be wading around in the muck while its pouring, tangling with a bunch of dumbasses when I could be enjoying a pint at the inn, minding my own business and resting from travel. Good times", he muttered sarcastically.

"Are you really him?"

The dragonborn turned quizzically towards his new ally. "Who?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Come on now, don't play dumb. There aren't many blue dragonborn rogues living in Arthyria and there are far less that carry weapons like yours."

He smiled. "Well, you're inquisitive, Corporal. Name's Kriv. Kriv Delmirev."

The halfling subconsciously pulled her traveling cloak around her uniform at the mention of her rank. "Kriv the Blue? That Kriv? Weren't you that one adventurer from a couple years back that fought a celestial?"

Kriv was silent for a moment. Before he could reply, there was movement behind him, causing the rogue to wheel around just in time to witness the beggar who had been on the ground earlier holding a dagger to his throat. Up close, he saw the beggar was a dark-skinned, brown-eyed boy, no more than 16, and, judging by the finer clothes beneath his rags, was far more wealthy than once thought. As for the boy himself, it was clear he was new to adventuring, if his shaking hand was any indication.

"Move and I will slit your throat!", the boy squeaked. He was trying and failing to hide his fear after watching the dragonborn take on nearly 20 men and live. Also, Kriv noticed, he was Lancedonian. He sighed, silently pleading the boy was not the usual kind of asshole that came from that country.

In response to the threat, Kriv leaned forward and, without flinching, replied, "Then, do it."

The boy balked. Never before had he threatened a man before, and never before had a man asked him to be killed. It was this momentary hesitation that allowed Kriv to headbutt him, causing the boy to fall to the ground. The rogue snatched up the knife and held it to the beggar's throat, pining him to the ground with his knee as he did so. The halfling, who had silently been watching the exchange, stepped forward and gazed upon the boy, impressed by what she had seen. "Not bad, Delmirev," she nodded, "you've got skill."

Kriv returned the gesture. "You're not so bad yourself, Corporal-?"

"Dale." The response was curt. "Nevira Dale."

The name gave the dragonborn pause. "Corporal Nevira Dale of the Leopold Army?" A look from the halfling confirmed his question. He decided not to pursue the matter any further until they became better acquainted. He turned back to the boy on the ground. "You gonna be a problem?"

The boy grit his teeth. "Only if you kill me."

Kriv laughed, flipping the dagger so that the hilt faced the beggar, who took back his dagger as the rogue got off his chest and hauled him to his feet. "You're a long way from home, Lancedonian", he commented as he did so, "I'd be careful around here. Your king isn't well liked in these parts and especially not by the poor."

The boy swayed a little as he stood. "Well, I'm not a fan of the bastard, either."

Kriv whistled. "Quite a mouth for a noble, Mr.-?"

The beggar steadied himself against the dragonborn. "Buckman. Randal Buckman." His eyes began to flutter as he grew more and more weary. "Traveling...bard...at...your service..."

He passed out. Kriv caught his falling body, squinting as he did so. The boy had called himself a musician, but he saw no weapons on him. In fact, the only thing on his person, besides the clothes on his back, was the dagger he threatened the rogue with moments ago.

"Bastards nearly robbed him clean." He sighed. "Poor fool. That's what an amateur gets for traveling alone at night."

Nevira gazed in the direction the bandit leader had departed. "You want to go after them, get the boy's belongings?"

Kriv shook his head. "Not in these conditions. I'll wait till morning, when the rain's stopped." He slung Randal over his shoulder. "Until then, I'll take this fella and we'll recover in town at the Unlucky Elf." He turned. "Wanna come with?"

Nevira shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm itching to make them pay for that ambush."

Kriv grinned. "Alright, then. Let's go. I'm friends with the innkeep, so we should get a good price on the mead there. Plus, they make the best steak dinner around here."

She chuckled. "You had me at 'mead' and 'steak'. I could use a good meal today. Haven't eaten since breakfast."

With that, the newly acquainted friends, along with their unconscious companion, made their way in the direction of Greygar, chatting about recent jobs as they went, unaware of how significant the events that had just occurred would be for the coming years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it! The beginning of my fantasy epic!
> 
> Had you asked me about it two months ago, I still wouldn't have had a title. Let's just say that Ireland can be fantastic for inspiration, especially for fantasy stories.
> 
> Next chapter of anything probably won't come for a while, but when I get the chance to write, I'll take it. Same goes for publishing chapters.
> 
> As usual, be sure to leave kudos and feedback if you liked it!
> 
> Until then!


End file.
